


Man's Best Friend

by intergalacticbooty



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Abuse, Animal Ears, Animalistic, Dog boys, Dog/Human Hybrids, Hybrids, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Ownership of Humanoid Creatures, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7300255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalacticbooty/pseuds/intergalacticbooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman's a hardworking man working manual labor jobs and trying to scrape by in a city that oppresses and dreads everyone that doesn't make millions. It's a harsh life, but maybe Roman can find some joy in it when he meets the rough and mangy dog boy named Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just gonna sit in the corner and not even try and justify what this is.

Roman’s life is far from glamourous. In fact, many would call it goddamn awful. Living in a shithole of a town, surrounded by condemned buildings, broken streets, and with only a few livable and luxurious establishments for those with millions at their disposal. It doesn’t help that more than half the town is owned by the slumlord McMahon-Helmsey family, or as Roman likes to call them, dictators. And their properties naturally include the apartment complex in the west side ghetto where he lived. Yeah, wonderful landlords that upped his rent another $50 without notice, causing him to go 5 days without electricity, waiting for his paycheck to come in.

His jobs aren’t exactly glamourous, either, but they have a lot of perks. He delivers papers on his bike on Sundays for the city which helps him keep in shape and works as a butcher/occasional cook at Owens’s Burgers and Fries. It’s a small joint run by a guy named Kevin and his best bud and lover Sami. They pay Roman well, considering he’s their only butcher, and more often than not he gets free meals out of it. They’ve been getting more business, lately, too, which means even more hours for Roman. Which is why Roman is currently working in the back of the joint, chopping up fresh beef to be funneled through the meat grinders for the patties next morning at 2AM.

Despite being a poor and rough neighborhood and a funky, small kind of establishment it has a dedicated staff, owners, and it’s maintained impeccably well and clean. Which is why Roman is kinda shocked to find a bag full of onion peels next to the fridge. Usually the night staff is pretty thorough with cleaning, but shrugs his shoulders as he trails outside to toss it in the dumpster in the back.

“Fuck bro, fucking launch that shit!” He hears a drunken, giggling voice from farther down the back alley. It’s really none of Roman’s business and drunkards aren’t exactly a rare breed in this neighborhood, but when he hears a rapid slamming noise like someone kicking something plastic, he turns his way towards the noise.

“Like a football, dude, c’mon!” Roman is a large man, but light on his feet and two punks, probably not a week over 17, seem to be pushing and kicking a garbage bag back and forth as he approaches silently. For a moment he thinks of turning away, but decides it’s best to get these fucknuts to piss off, because all he needs is them messing with the restaurant.

“Hey!” He shouts, his voice echoing through the tunneled structure of the alleyway. The two brats nearly jumping out of their skin as his stepping picks up speed. “What the fuck are you guys doing back here? Huh? Piss off, NOW!” Roman has to say nothing more, the kids nearly tripping over each other in fear as they rush past him.

Good. Now he can finish grinding the meat and packaging them for the morning shift. But something stops Roman. The bag they were abusing was stretched out oblong, whatever stuck in it was over 6 feet tall or wide and he simply stares for a moment. Roman shrugs, deciding it’s not worth mulling over but as soon one ankle turns the bag fucking moves.

He’s stunned for a moment, simply staring before he hears what sounds like a groan and the impression of hands pushing up. There’s a million thoughts running through his mind as he kneels down, beginning to rip at the bag. Was it a prank gone wrong? Was whoever in the bag dying? Did they do something worse to them before Roman got out here?

Of all the questions running through his mind, the prospect of finding a caninuman wasn’t one of them. The poor thing is covered in bruises and cuts, sporting a black eye and with its nose bleeding. Its ears are floppy and mangy and in fact its entire appearance can be described as mangy, almost downright filthy. Even down to the curly mess of red-brown hair on its head. As more of the creature comes to view to Roman as he rips the bag open, he realizes it’s a male and when he squints harder in the dim light he can, indeed, make out faint facial hair. He’s wearing a thread worn t-shirt littered in holes and covered in grime and a little blood, jeans made for humans with a hole cut out for his tail, which is matted down and missing splotches of fur, to stick out and no shoes.

The creature is groaning, the noise only growing louder as Roman gently lifts him up out of the trash bag. Roman’s rarely ever seen caninumans, only on magazines and in shows and owned by the rich and famous. And even then the only one he’s seen up close and in person is the Yorkshire Terrier named Seth that comes around when Stephanie collects rent. That caninuman is always prime and proper, small ears even and perky, it’s tail sometimes shaved in intricate patterns, and it’s manners are impeccable as it follows around on a leash. This one in his arms has to be some type of mutt, and it’s in so much pain that its eyes aren’t even opening.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay…” Roman says softly, but the thing is so light in his arms, frail and clearly underfed and it makes his heart ache. Caninumans are hot and expensive commodities, but he’s heard nothing but shameful things about the mutt varieties, which are valued as less than dirt. He can’t imagine what kind of life it’s led, but for a moment he wishes he could have chased after those punks, stuffed them into a bag, and kicked them around for a few hours. “…it’s going to be okay…” He coos then, because he can see the caninuman starting to stir.

He manages to use one hand to hold the creature and another to lay down an extra tablecloth onto their prepping table in the back before placing the creature on top of it. Roman rushes off to get his phone, beginning to pace as he keeps a hand gently placed on top of the mutt’s chest and can’t help the level of relief he feels as he notices the breathing is impeccably steady. “Kevin, bro, I need you down here, ASAP!”

“It’s 2 in the morning, dude…” Crackles over the phone and Roman huffs out.

“I don’t give a shit, we got an emergency. I…there’s a caninuman here…in bad fucking shape and I don’t know what to do. Just, please…none of us have caninuman insurance or I would have taken him to a hospital or something, b-but…shit, he’s roughened up.” It comes out a quick, breathless stringing of words as he clutches the phone harder, the creature beginning to shiver. There’s a moment of silence before he hears Kevin shifting out of bed, muttering something to Sami.

“A caninuman? Shit, alright, alright…we’ll be there soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is confused about what Dean or other caninumans look like, just picture your cliche anime cat girl but with dog ears and a tail. They also have sharper, canine like teeth and longer tongues and naturally their nails get sharper.

Sami has had experience in the past taking care of caninumans. It isn’t like he was from a privileged background or anything, but he has a naturally non-threatening demeanor and face which made it easy enough to land a job grooming and puppysitting caninumans. While majority of the wealthy are pieces of shit, there is a decent number of them and a lot of their tips and moderately generous pay is what permitted Sami and Kevin to open up their restaurant.

Roman is praying that Sami’s experience with these creatures will pay off as he works meticulously, all three men absolutely exhausted as he checks each inch of the mutt’s body. “Looks like there’s no breaks, actually, a lot of bruising and tenderness…swelling, too, and his wrist looks like it might be sprained.” He manages to get the creature to sit up enough to swallow some water and shove a few aspirin into his mouth. “Roman, can you get me the first aid kit behind the sink?”

The butcher doesn’t even hesitate, practically knocking over an innocent Kevin to retrieve it, almost breathless for reasons unknown to him. This creature is just a mutt, a passerby that obviously no one wants to own or care for, but Roman feels a bizarre possessiveness thrumming through him as Sami ever so carefully wraps up and binds a few injured areas, including that limp and slightly swollen wrist. Then be moves to clean off the facial wounds. Soon enough, each cut is covered in small bandages and the mutt looks a whole hell of a lot better.

“Now what?” Roman says, staring down at the caninuman even though he’s clearly addressing the other humans in the room. It doesn’t matter, though, because all he wants to do is lean forward and touch, to caress those stubbled cheeks and hold the poor mutt close to him. It’s shivering now and he really has to fight the urge to swaddle the poor thing.

“Now, I’m going to finish up the burgers for the morning and Sami is going to give you and your new mutt a lift back to your place.” Kevin pokes him on the chest for emphasis before he slides on his own apron.

“What? Wait, I…I have to finish my shift. And I…I’m not taking THAT home with me, man!” Roman stumbles over his words a tad, trying his hardest not to raise his voice for fear of disturbing ‘that’. Both men look completely and utterly unconvinced and Roman huffs out. “Seriously, I can’t…”

“Yeah, you aren’t fooling anyone, big guy.” Sami chuckles, looking a little red as he begins packing up the first aid kit. “It’s obvious you’re already possessive of him. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a caninuman! A-And, what…I don’t, I…” Roman really is searching for an excuse, because he hasn’t even heard the creature speak, but would love nothing more than to come home after a long day’s work and be greeted by him.

“Look, dude, okay, you found him and he’s uncollared and clearly not a purebred. Either he ends up on the street or goes home with you, but based on how you’ve been acting towards him, I’m guessing you’d rather have him go with you, right?” Kevin crosses his arms over his chest then, glaring up at the taller male. “Listen, just take him for the night. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

Roman lets out a defeated sigh and nods, gently hooking his arms around the mutt to hold it bridal style. It’s still in a daze, head lolling against his chest as he lets out a few puffs of air, eyes firmly shut. “You okay with going home with me?” It’s a whisper and he doesn’t get a response, not that he really expects much of one.

“Treat that pup good, alright? And you’re still getting paid for your full shift.” Kevin winks at him suggestively and Roman swallows down a lump that he didn’t realize has begun to form. That bastard, his boss always finding ways to make awkward and strange situations worse. Although this scenario takes the cake, hands down.

Sami gives him numerous tips about grooming, diet, temperament, clothing, and others as Roman continues to stare back at the rearview mirror, taking in the rising and falling chest of that slender frame. Roman decides when he gets home he’s going to try and wake the mutt, bathe it, maybe get some information out of him, and feed him something. Sami helps bring up his bike and leaves Roman with some other supplies he conveniently has in the back of his car, before whisking back off to the restaurant.

Roman’s alone with the mutt and places it gently on his modest living room couch. His apartment is barely big enough for him, so he can’t even fathom trying squeeze in a caninuman who is basically the same size as him. Regardless, he leaves the creature there to start drawing a bath in the teeny tub. The more he thinks about this all, the more he can’t help but find it cute as all hell. Soft, floppy ears, a cute little tail, and a very round, adorable face. Just as he muses over what color eyes a mutt can possibly have, he hears some rummaging from the other room.

A few quick strides in and he finds the mutt flailing around, having knocked over the wooden coffee table, feet kicking around as he tries to move in his weakened state. Blue. His eyes are a starting and crisp blue as his eyes widen in panic, flashing over at Roman. They do that strange, luminescent thing that allows them to see in the dark that Roman has heard of as it peers over in his dim living room. “Hey, hey, you okay?” One hesitant step forward and the creature makes a small, almost growling noise.

“Hurt…’s hurtin…” The tone is desperate as the caninuman looks around even more panicked and Roman remembers the tip Sami gave him earlier in the car and how important scent is.

He creeps forward, offering a hand out wordlessly in the tiny living space for the terrified being to sniff. It takes a bit of coaxing, Roman making a few soft and reaffirming noises before the creature presses forward, nose running against his knuckles and wiggling ever so slightly. It might look like a human nose, sure, but he knows better and hopes that the mutt is scenting something good off of him.

Those blue eyes flicker up to him in realization, a sweet little grin spreading over the mutt’s face. Christ, there’s adorable dimples on both cheeks and Roman just wants to kiss that button nose. “Saved me…you’re good, good guy, yeah, yeah!” It’s rather eager before hands are wrapped around Roman’s leg, hugging him close there. “Thanks, man, thanks!”

“Whoa, now! Settle down!” The creature isn’t small by any means and despite how adorable that smile and his wagging, raggedy little tail is, it’s still a decent size and practically knocked Roman over. “I, uh…I’m Roman…” He hand twitches at his side, battling within his mind and deciding if he should take another piece of advice Sami offered. Well, the first went well, so why not try this?

“Roman, Roman, good guy, yeah…” A little more eager nuzzling and petting of his thigh, the sharp teeth of caninuman coming into view for the first time as he spoke eagerly.

The creature quiets down quickly as Roman begins the scratch at one of its mangy ears. The fur is matted there and he’s more than a little glad he had the foresight to run a bath. “What’s your name, huh, boy?”

A long tongue lulls out as the mutt nuzzles eagerly into his hand, leg trembling as a pleasurable shiver rids up from the base of his tail to the back of his skull. He can’t remember the last time someone has petted or scratched at him like this. It’s been so long, but he vaguely can remember a little girl wanting to pet him and give him food before her mother hit him with her purse and told him to run off. But this human, this man, is being so kind to him. And saved him. And now he’s even giving him head scratches? “’s Dean…” 


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean, huh, pup?” Romans pops the last word as the caninuman, Dean, leans further into his digging scratches of his floppy ears. “You had a rough night, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, bad night, cold night…h-hurt a lot, they hurt Dean, b-but he didn’t do nothing wrong…” A whining noise follows low from his throat, ears flopping down even lower and pulling back slightly as Roman finally sits down, Dean kneeling in front of him.

“Why…why’d they do that to you?” Roman says softly, his voice dipping nice and low as he continues the gently little rubbing of Dean’s ears. Just speaking a little bit with this mutt and his heart aches even more for how much he has to have suffered so far.

“I-I…they wanted inside me. But I ain’t givin’ my ass up for no one but my mate! So they beat me up, beat me up.” He says it proudly, before nuzzling his nose between Roman’s fingers and sniffling. “Y-You ain’t gonna do nothin’ like them, right?”

“No. Not going to hurt you, little pup.” Roman decides to scratch at that stubbled chin and can’t help the grin that slips over his own face when those blue eyes blink slowly in a clear sign of contentment. “You have a mate, Dean?” He doesn’t know why he asks that, because it’s none of his fucking business, but his stomach does turn at the thought of those punks trying to force themselves on Dean. He knows of the tales of what the rich do to caninumans. To him it's sick, wrong, and just plain unfair to these innocent creatures.

“Nuh…not yet…but one day, maybe. Yeah, maybe one day.” The mutt lays his head on Roman’s thigh for a moment and as sweet as the little gesture is, well, he does smell a little. Well, actually, he smells a lot and it's damn near sewage levels bad. And there is no way that matted fur feels good.

“Would you like to wash up a little, huh? I got a bath drawn for you and I can get you some clothes, maybe?” Dean nods at that, his longer canine teeth hanging over his bottom lip as he follows after Roman on all fours. Sami told him that caninumans can move on all fours or on two legs comfortably, but some have a preference for one or the other.

The bathroom is really too small, but Roman sits him on the toilet and finds that way is much easier to undress Dean. He starts off with the stained and torn shirt, lifting it up and revealing a littering of bruises, cuts, and scars that seem far too old to be recent. His jeans follow suit, revealing more wounds on his legs and for whatever reason Roman is incredibly grateful that Dean’s tail instinctively covers his own junk. “Thanks, thanks!” He steps into the bathtub eagerly, the bubbles obscuring his intimate bits.

“I’ll get your back, ears, and hair, okay? But you can cover everything else?” The mutt nods, Roman smiling as small little whiffles and hums of contentment spill out of the caninuman’s throat. He uses some basic human shampoo, obviously not having access to anything specialized, and scrubs at his unruly locks. Dirt, leaves, small sticks, and patches of blood start to tumble out from the knotted hair and matted ears. He initially thought the creature’s hair is black, but as filth drips down into the bath water, Roman is pleased to find his hair is a warmer red-brown, almost auburn blonde hue.

More whiffling noises escape Dean’s throat before Roman pulls back. His tongue is lolled out in pleasure and relaxation, before his entire body shakes, water splattering all over. “So good, so clean and nice…so nice…” The human chuckles then, scratching at one of Dean’s ears once more. “…nice scratches…love ‘em…” Dean really, really does. He hasn’t had a bath in god knows how long. This Roman human is so nice, so kind and gentle with him. “…thank you, thanks…man, ‘s real nice…”

“I’m glad you feel good.” Roman stands up from where he was kneeling at the tub, rolling his neck and shoulders to ease some of his own tension from so much late night physical activity. “Why don’t you finish cleaning up in here, pup, and I’ll get you some clothes?”

The mutt nods then, beginning to splish splash in the water playfully. He leans forward, tail bopping up and flailing a little to reveal his pale bubble butt. A butt that Roman refuses to say looks absolutely delectable as he rushes off into his bedroom to find something suitable for his new roommate.

He’s totally not thinking about those sweet dimples or that cute ass or the way his tongue seems to loll out whenever he’s given a good scratch or pet. Roman just keeps reminding himself how rattled Dean must be, how scary it must have been to be ganged up on like that, and then randomly whisked away to a stranger’s home. He’s just very, very glad that stranger is him.

Roman leaves a long white t-shirt and briefs for Dean on the kitchen sink, but not before hazarding a glance at the bathing form who is currently scrubbing dirt out of his soft looking tail. What a sweet little scene, but he decides to leave the pup to finish cleaning up and getting dressed.

He rummages through the fridge, trying to find something nice and hearty for the malnourished creature. Just as said creature filters in from the bathroom with the clothes Roman left him on, he pulls out a bowl of leftover beef stew. Rich and thick with beef chunks, potatoes, carrots, and heavy gravy. The works. Roman pops it into the microwave as Dean decides to sit back down in front of the couch, tail waggling happily as he rolls up into a tight ball. “So comfy…” Dean grunts out, but as soon as he gets exceptionally comfy, his nose picks up on something more exceptionally delicious smelling.

“You ready to eat something, pup?” Those floppy little ears perk up slightly, tilting his head as he sniffles at the steaming dish placed in front of him. “It’s just some leftover stew, but I figured…you might be a little hungry?”

“’s all for me?” He tilts his head, looser, damp curls falling forward as his tongue lulls out easily, drool beginning to drip. Poor thing’s stomach is growling and yet he’s waiting oh so obediently to be given permission.

“Yeah, all for you. Eat up, okay?” Roman reaches down to scratch behind a freshly cleaned ear, finding it to be soft and silky to the touch before the mutt buries his face into the mushy stew. He eats like, well, like an animal, tearing into the meat and potatoes with those incredibly sharp teeth, his nose and lips becoming stained with the gravy.

It’s downright adorable and Roman has to stop from picking him up and hugging him then and there. He instead decides to get him another bowl, this one filled with water, and places it down next to the caninuman’s other dish. He takes a break from the stew, licking his chops with his long tongue. “Thank you, Roman…good guy, thank you…so tasty, so good!”

“You’re welcome, pup.” Dean seems to blush at that as Roman flops down on the couch near him with his own food, a sandwich, in hand. He fights the urge to mess with that little waggling tail. It’s so strange, he’s only seen that Seth caninuman up close a few times before, but this adorable mutt seems to fit into his home just nicely. “Just…don’t eat too quickly, okay? Don’t want you to throw it up. No one I gonna take any food away from you here.”

“So nice…thank you…” It’s more quietly said, but Roman simply scratches at another ear in reply before he leans down to lap at the water. It’s kinda mesmerizing to see how the creature scopes water into his tongue quickly and shovels it back into his mouth.

After Dean finishes up with his stew and Roman his sandwich, both males begin to fade off into sleep. It’s been an insanely eventful night and Roman still isn’t quite sure what to do with the mutt, but as he sees him rolled up into a ball, hastily falling asleep, he thinks that maybe…maybe he knows exactly where he’d like Dean to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

Roman wakes up to the sensation of something wet sliding against the junction of his neck and shoulder. It’s almost pleasant, his mind still in a small, fuzzy haze before realization hits that he’s being fucking licked. He nearly shoots out of the comfortable position on the couch, eyes snapping open. “Jesus Christ!”

The caninuman’s ears flatten back, his tongue hanging out mid-lick before it slides back between his lips slowly. He looks almost sad, tail drooping along with his ears like he’d been caught doing something bad. “Sorry, sorry…d-didn’t mean to do bad, good guy Roman…jus’ wanna wake you up…”

“No, no, it’s…” Roman stops for a moment, stretching and yawning before he reaches over to scratch the mutt’s left ear. After further inspection he realizes there’s a slice through it, like a piece of the ear is missing. It makes his heart ache even more for the poor thing. “…you just surprised me, is all. But you’re not doing anything bad, you’re a good boy.”

Those floppy ear perk up at that, Dean nuzzling into the soft scratching of Roman’s fingertips, his tail waggling in a rhythmic tempo against the patched up couch. “’m good?” He grins at that, flashing those sharp canines before licking one of Roman’s fingertips.

“Yeah, you are. Had such good manners since you’ve gotten here.”  Dean blinks slowly and happily at that, before laying his head on Roman’s lap. The butcher continues to scratch at his ears for a little bit longer until his own stomach grumbles. “You want some breakfast, pup?”

He nods at that, slipping down on all fours and beginning to crawl against the carpet towards the kitchen. Finally, the mutt seems to decide this task would be better suited on two legs and stands up straight. Roman doesn’t both following, figuring the creature is just moving around for the sake of stretching his legs, but when he hears the clattering of what few pans he actually he has, he practically bolts into the kitchen.

“What, whoa!” Roman stares wide-eyed as the mutt is chopping up peppers and tomatoes, mixing it into a bowl that seems to already be filled with eggs, but Roman can see egg shells and he’s pretty sure Dean is seconds away from pouring dish soap into it. “What…what’re you doing?”

“Tummy grumbled…w-wanted to make Ro something to eat? Yeah, something to eat!” The second sentence he utters with confidence, waving around a very sharp knife that Roman quickly takes away. The mutt’s ears flop back again, looking absolutely distraught. “B-But…”

“Hey, I appreciate it, really, I do, but…”

“Dean’s gotta leave, right? ‘m mutt…people dun’t like mutts…” He whines low in the back of his throat, retracting down onto all fours before staring down at the floor.

“No, no, that’s not it!” Roman hesitates, seeing those blue eyes so sad and heavy with disbelief at his words. He does something bold and probably a bit stupid, but in hindsight it’s the best decision of his life. “Listen, okay? You can stay here as long as you want, Dean. I don’t care that you’re caninuman and I care even fucking less that you’re a mutt. I don’t have much in my home, but you’re welcome to share it with me, lil pup.”

There’s a pause in the mutt’s whining before his ears perk up and his tails wags. Roman thought only cats bounced, but apparently caninumans are just as prone to it as he’s soon knocked off is feet with 200 lbs. of adorable mutt. “Thank you, thank you! Good guy Roman. No, no, best guy Roman! Best, Ro, best!” He licks and laps excitingly, hands gently grabbing at Roman’s side. “B-But if Dean can stay why can’t I make breakfast for you? You are so good, best, I should make you something to eat.”

“I appreciate it, but, uh…I don’t think us humans can stomach what you caninumans can. Why don’t I just cook for both of us?” He barely manages to get this out between licks and laps from that long tongue and is pleased to find it doesn’t upset Dean. Which Roman totally refuses to believe turns him on.

“But…i-if ‘s my home, too, I gotta help, right?” Dean finally pulls back from licking Roman, but doesn’t bother getting out of his lap.

He contemplates this for a moment, running his fingers through Dean’s freshly cleaned auburn locks. They’re so soft to the touch, almost as soft as his floppy ears. “We can find other stuff for you to do, but in the meantime…you’re still hurtin’ and I’m gonna take care of you, alright? Now up, so I can fix us breakfast.”

Dean obliges, padding down next to the stove and watching upwards, rising to two feet ever so often to watch as Roman salvages his attempt at making an omelet. Maybe Roman should start from scratch, but he doesn’t have enough money to spare eggs like this and certainly doesn’t want to harm Dean’s feelings. So he fishes the shells out and begins adding pepper and salt to the mixture. He also fishes out some shredded cheese and adding it in before plopping it all into a buttered pan.

“You hungry, pup?” The sweet little pawing of Dean’s slightly sharp nails against Roman’s lower calf kinda tells him all he needs to know, but he loves the cute little whiffles and noises in response. The omelet was quickly done and Roman splits it down the middle, placing some on a plate on the floor in front of Dean to start devouring, before sitting at the kitchen table and eating himself.

“Tasty! Best food!” Dean chomps away happily, little stray bits of egg and cheese over his mouth causing Roman to chuckle a bit. Just as he’s going to wipe it off, his phone rings. Quickly rummaging for it, the butcher can’t help but laugh a little as he answers.

“Hello?”

“It’s Kevin, bro. Listen, just wanted to call to let you know I got some of your overtime pay today if you wanna bike over and pick it up.” That’s…well, more than bit strange because Roman isn’t due to be paid for another week. “Don’t question it, man. Oh, and Sami said to give you the day off, so enjoy that, too.”

“Wait? No, I…I can come in.”

“Sami said you need bonding time with your new pet.” There’s a snicker in Kevin’s tone and Roman rolls his eyes, wishing there was a way for him to glare through audio.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like that. Not really, okay? Just…” He wants to chew Kevin a new one, but his boss quickly tells him there’s an early rush coming in post-church service that he needs to attend to and hangs up. Roman let’s out a soft sigh, not really sure how to take the pet comment as he rubs through his long locks.

Dean whiffles a little, trying to get his attention to show he’s done with his plate, before standing up on his two legs shakily again and placing it into the sink. Roman grows bold for a moment, deciding to run his finger along that shaggy tail. The mutt seems to actually enjoy it, staring over at him with soft eyes. “Hello, Ro…”

“Hi, pup. Ready to go out for a little bit?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Side note that only applies to small minority: If you're going to leave shitty comments on my work that actually have nothing to do with the story at hand or leave other garbage, I'm deleting the comment and nothing you say will be taken seriously. If you have a legitimate concern you can PM me on fanfiction.net. Otherwise, don't say anything at all. I will be deleting these comments because they fail to leave any valid critique and ruin a lot of the fun for the other readers.
> 
> TL;DR: Don't be a jackass.


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